Perfect Loner
by chaserzachsmith
Summary: Anthony had friends. He was fine. (Quick peeks into Anthony Goldstein's first year.)


Anthony Goldstein first met Terry Boot on the Hogwarts Express. "Those aren't allowed at school," he said, pointing with his chin at the box of Dungbombs Terry was hugging to his chest.

"Nobody cares," said Terry Boot, and there was a moment's pause as Terry Boot looked Anthony up and down. Anthony was small for his age, Terry was tall for his age, and the combination was too much. Anthony looked down.

"It doesn't matter anyway," said Terry Boot, and Anthony glanced back up at him. "Because you're not gonna tell. See you around, boring."

"I will so!" Anthony called after him, watching him retreat down the train.

He stood outside the prefects' carriage for ten minutes, wondering if they would really care about a first year who had a box of Dungbombs. Then, he turned around and went back to his carriage, full of third year Slytherins who were ignoring him.

* * *

Anthony had friends.

Or, really, his friends had Anthony. He wasn't entirely sure where he fit in with them. At the very least, people didn't seem annoyed with them. Except for Terry Boot, who was trouble anyway according to Anthony's older sister Miriam, who was in seventh year and very smart.

He wasn't bothered by anything, really. He was used to not really having anyone to hang out with. After all, his sister and brother, Eric, were six and eight years older than him, and his parents' friends' kids were usually a couple of years younger than him. He could survive on his own. He just needed to distract himself enough.

At first, he was too shy to talk in class, but then he noticed Terry Boot raised his hand all the time, and nobody ever laughed if he was wrong. Anthony started to answer questions, too.

In Ravenclaw, there was a clear distinction between being a respected, smart student and being a teacher's pet. This was something Miriam and Eric had both told Anthony, in person and in a letter the week after he'd been Sorted. _You don't want to be a kissass._

Somehow, Terry Boot was respected and smart, though, in that he was often wrong and laughed it off, while Anthony was usually right, which made him a kissass. Somehow.

* * *

He tried to befriend his roommates, but Michael was unfriendly, Kevin and Stephen were already friends, and Terry Boot was trouble anyway. He tried to befriend the girls in his year, but they didn't seem to like him much.

"If you need help with Transfiguration homework I'll help you," he tried, but that felt lousy somehow. Like he was paying them to be his friend. He helped them on homework anyway, and hoped that they would hang out with him more as soon as they realised he wasn't a big loser. No luck, so far.

He asked Kevin to help him in Potions, but Kevin laughed and said "You're beyond help there, man." Anthony didn't ask anyone else for help.

In his most lonely moments, he brought his homework to meals and did it then. In his worst moments, he skipped meals and did homework instead.

"You shouldn't skip meals," said Michael Corner from the doorway, one night when everyone else was in the Common Room.

"I didn't think anybody noticed," said Anthony. Against his better judgement, a part of him hoped foolishly that this meant Michael wanted to be his friend.

"Maybe I'm just observant," said Michael. "Anyway, I brought you a sandwich." He held it out, and when Anthony got up to go take it, Michael nodded once and then left.

It was _something_ , Anthony thought. At the very least. But Michael didn't talk to him again.

* * *

"It's okay," he said, over dinner at home. "I like it. I'm doing okay in classes."

"Are you making any friends?" asked his mother, giving him more salad. He pushed it around on his plate.

"Uh huh. I talk to all my roommates," he said. He did, on occasion.

"He doesn't have any friends," said Miriam, through a mouthful of potato. "He eats alone and does homework all the time."

"Miriam!" Anthony said, offended.

Eric laughed. "Aw, Anthony."

"Maybe you should try including your brother in-"

"Mum, I'm six years older than him. What would I do?"

"It's fine," said Anthony, desperate to change the subject. "I'm okay."

"Aw, _Anthony_ ," said Eric again.

* * *

His sister tried to be nicer to him after winter holidays. She even let him hang around with her occasionally. Her friends all thought he was cute.

Terry Boot was still being a general nuisance, and was by now firmly best friends with Michael Corner. Stephen and Kevin were still best friends.

"Your problem is you try too hard," said Miriam, her feet up on a coffee table. Anthony was sitting gloomily next to her, staring fixedly at her pink toenails.

"If I don't try, then _nothing_ will happen," he said.

"Nobody's going to happen anyway," she said. "Look, Anthony, if you keep trying so hard to make people like you, you look desperate."

"I am desperate," Anthony pointed out.

"Aw, Anthony." She patted him affectionately on the head. "Just be yourself."

"Hah," said Anthony.

* * *

"You are the only first year to come to me about tutoring, you know," said Professor Flitwick, the first time Anthony went to visit him.

"Really?" Anthony said, hugging his books to his chest.

"Yes, actually," said Flitwick, one hand fidgeting on the doorknob.

"I don't have anywhere else to be," said Anthony, and Flitwick sighed.

"It might surprise you to learn this, but I wasn't very popular at Hogwarts, either. Are you doing alright?"

For a moment, Anthony thought he'd rather die than have this conversation with Professor Flitwick of all people, but then something in him melted a little. "Is it because you're so…"

"Tall?" said Flitwick, and chuckled. "My point is, you're not what they think of you. I hope you know that."

"Yeah," said Anthony, who is, despite his something still melting, very uncomfortable. "Okay." He left fast, and vowed to never get Charms tutoring again.

* * *

"He's still not making any friends," he heard. He stared fixedly at his cocoa, but he could still sense Eric and Miriam watching him.

"Give him some more time. It's only been a few months," said his father.

"He's unhappy," said his mother. "You see how he's acting, he's lonely."

"I still don't think they realise we can hear them out here," said Miriam in an undertone. "At least this isn't the booze fight."

"Oof. That one was a mess," said Eric.

Anthony wanted to cry.

"Pulling him from school isn't going to improve his social skills," said his father. "All that would do is make it harder for him to relate to other children."

Eric put his arm around Anthony. "You alright, kid?"

"Yeah," said Anthony.

"Maybe this would have been easier on him if we sent him to primary school like I wanted to," said his mother.

"You know it's too much of a risk to put him in a Muggle school," said his father.

"Yeah, sure you are." Eric ruffled his hair and stood up. "Let's get outta here. Miriam?"

They played Exploding Snap upstairs and Anthony tried hard to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach, the realisation that even his mother thought he was a loser.

* * *

"What you want is a close game," said Terry Boot, who was reading a newspaper intently even though Michael Corner was trying to talk to him. "Those are fun to watch."

"If it's a close game, it makes me nervous," said Michael.

"Yeah," said Terry Boot. "That's the point."

Anthony shouldn't have chimed in. He knew that. "You have a good point," he told Terry. "It's more satisfying to watch your team steal a win than to watch your team crush the other side."

"I like the crushing," said Michael.

"But then it's not a surprise," said Anthony.

"I don't like surprises," said Michael.

Anthony was starting to enjoy himself. Terry Boot, on Michael's other side, looked murderous, which only improved Anthony's mood.

If he wasn't mistaken, which was always possible, he had just made his first friend.

* * *

"He's such a freak," he heard Terry Boot saying in an undertone, a day later. "Look at all those greens."

"I can't eat pork," he said, and looked Terry Boot directly in the eyes. Terry Boot turned pink and looked down.

"My mum's friend is a lesbian," said Michael. "So she doesn't eat any meat."

Terry Boot gave Michael a funny look but didn't say anything. Anthony had another bite of salad.

"Do you think he knows what a lesbian is?" Anthony said, later on that night.

"I'm not sure he even knows what sex is," said Terry, dropping his voice a little bit. Anthony snorted and covered his mouth. Terry smirked.

"He's kind of an excitable bloke, isn't he?" Anthony said, through his fingers.

"God. He never shuts up."

* * *

They were walking to Potions and Michael said to Anthony, "Your potions are always kind of horrible."

"I know."

"Terry's great at them."

Terry gave a modest sort of grimace and flapped one hand awkwardly.

"I wonder who Snape is going to pick on today," said Michael. Usually it was Hannah Abbott. Sometimes it was Justin Finch-Fletchley. It had been Anthony once.

"If it's you," said Terry, "I'll save your potion."

"Really?" said Anthony, a little thrilled.

"Don't get all excited. I said _if._ And I'm not making it for you."

* * *

"I think cancelling exams is the best thing that could have happened this year," Michael said on the train back. "I was really worried about Herbology."

"I was worried about Potions," said Anthony. "I wonder what Harry Potter actually did."

"Something stupid, probably," said Terry.

There was a pause, and then Michael said, "It can't have been all that stupid, if they got like a hundred some points."

"I think Dumbledore's just biased," said Terry. "Old codger."

"I thought you said Dumbledore was cool, when you met him," said Michael accusingly. Terry raised his eyebrows and folded his arms.

"I felt bad for the Slytherins," said Anthony. "A little."

"I didn't," said Terry. "A bunch of them called me a halfblood idiot scum."

Anthony considered that. "Malfoy called me a stupid friendless idiot," he offered.

"He had a point," said Terry. Anthony wasn't sure if he should be offended or not, but he laughed anyway.

* * *

"You made friends?" said Anthony's father, and gave his wife a pointed _I was right_ look.

"Don't get your hopes up," said Miriam, dropping her trunk in the hallway. "He has two friends."

His parents glanced at each other.

"Michael invited us to stay with him," Anthony offered. "He lives in Durham and he has pets."

His parents glanced at each other again.

Miriam propped her elbow on Anthony's shoulder and looked down at him. "Look at you with your two friends," she said wryly. He grinned back.


End file.
